He Is Savior
by jarec
Summary: Jim Gordon muses on Batman. Inspired by Whoreoftortuga.


HE IS…Savior

I climb the stairs t the roof, the same way I've done so many times over the years. As always, I briefly consider having an elevator put in- then I ask myself how I'd justify that one to the budgeting department. City Hall is already looking for an excuse to force my retirement, and that would probably do it.

The politicians and the public have never understood why I have to do this, why I have to call a vigilante for help every time one of Arkham's residents decides to head to Gotham for some fun. They tell me that a modern police force should be able to deal with crime alone, that I should have arrested him long ago.They don't understand how bad this city has gotten- that the Rogues are just the tip of the iceberg. Half my police force is on the take, and the other half is usually too frightened or apathetic to act against the corrupt ones. It took me years to get it down to fifty percent- when I first arrived in Gotham, I think I was the only honest cop in the city. Lord help me, I actually consider it a victory.

I still remember that first horrible year, when my family was threatened not only by the organized crime lords who ran the town, but by my fellow officers. I kept all the notes, and sometimes I take them out of the desk drawer and look them over. "Keep your nose out of MacPherson's business"- detective MacPherson, a cop who took a second paycheck as an enforcer for Carmine "the Roman" Falcone. "Your kids go to school at PS 126. They walk there, taking Hampton boulevard or sometimes they go via Romero Drive. Stay away from the docks". That one from Hong, then-boss of Chinatowns Tongs. So many others, telling the new commissioner that most of the city was off-limits to him.

Then He came. To this day, I give thanks to whatever god sent him, because without him this city would have been eaten alive by its own evil long ago. He showed me that it was possible to take on the Dons and the Tongs and all the rest of them. He strode bravely into the darkness that threatened me, and made the evil that dwelled there flee. He brought down the corrupt cops and frightened many of the others into going straight. Then, one night he came to me.

He wasn't begging. He made it very clear he was going to continue regardless of whether I agreed or not. It was just that he felt he could accomplish more with my help than without it. Back then, he thought I was like the others- just another little man in someone else's pocket. It took years before he began treating me with respect, and it was one of the proudest moments of my life when he called me Jim. I still remember, I'd just called him to report that Poison Ivy was loose. He and his partner (I THINK it was still his first one) appeared out of nowhere, and his deep voice said "what do you have for me Jim?".

Since then, I've been given credit for cleaning up Gotham. The newspapers and sociologists cite my 'dynamic leadership' and 'novel police tactics' for Gotham's lower crime rate, but only because they don't know. They don't know that before he came, I was planning on fleeing back to Chicago and safety. That I was so close to letting Gotham City fall into her own vice and evil.

I reach the roof, now, and shiver briefly in the chill November wind. Briefly, I remember another night (so long ago) when I called him here. I was not alone that night- District Attorney Harvey Dent had insisted on joining me. The three of us took an oath that night, to take the city back from the filth who ruled it. Today, I and he still live by that oath, while Harvey has joined the darkness. Poor Harvey.

As always I stop, to give a small prayer of thanksgiving and a small curse as well. I hate that this is still necessary. I hate that even now, after all our hard work- after all the loss, and bloodshed, and tears- that I still have to do this. But at the same time, I'm so glad that I have this option; that I can call him and he will come. The he will save the day, again.

I walk slowly over to the colossal searchlight, the fabled Batsignal. In the last few years, many of his enemies have learned the significance of this oversized flashlight, so I scan the area the way they taught me at the academy, so long ago. Clear, for now anyway.

I pause, my hand hovering just over the large switch. I wonder, again, just how long I'll be able to keep doing this. I'm well past retirement age, almost sixty and as my darling daughter is apt to point out I'm not getting any younger. It's an unwelcome thought but the one that follows it is even worse. How long will he be here? After all, he's only a man and that means he ages too. Will there come a night when I light this signal, and he won't come? I hope not. This city needs Batman. I need Batman. 

I throw the switch- Ka-Chunk!- and the familiar symbol blazes over the city once more.

The wait can't be more than a few minutes, but because of my gloomy thoughts it seems much longer. He's only human right? What if he got unlucky during his last night's patrol? What if some Rogue finally found the perfect deathtrap? Worse yet, what if some punk just got lucky? What if he's dead? I shake the gloom away, and hear something that makes my spirit lighter.

"Good evening, Jim. What's the situation?" As always the voice comes from behind me, and as always I startle. Idly, I wonder if that's how I'll die some night; if he'll appear behind me and the surprise will throw me into cardiac arrest. I force my mind to focus; that isn't important right now. I'm alive, he's alive, and we both have a city to protect.

"It's the Riddler. He escaped from Arkham last night. He sent us this" I hand over a thick manila envelope, crammed with clippings from various newspapers and magazines. They seem to be from random publications, and one or two words in each clipping have been highlighted. "We've got nothing from it. Here's hoping you have better luck." I turn to face the city "You know, I've been wondering…" I turn back and he's gone.

I whip my head back to the city, just in time to catch a glimpse of him swinging off into the night. My hero. My friend. My savior.

Batman.

A/N

This is the first in a series, examining how Batman is seen by various people in Gotham. It's inspired by Whoreoftortuga's She Is series.  
For those following the Joker's Wild- an update is forthcoming. 


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